Fake
by cakefic
Summary: What if Roger didn’t leave for Santa Fe? What did he do instead? Onesided MarkRoger. Mark angst. oneshot. written for speed rent.


**Title: **Fake**  
Author:** Kristie**  
Feedback: **Would be loved oh so much.**  
Pairing: **One-sided Mark/Roger. Mark/Roger friendship and Mark/Collins friendship. Mentioned Roger/April, Roger/Mimi, Maureen/Joanne, Angel/Collins. **  
Word Count: **1,132**  
Rating: **PG-13.**  
Genre: **Angst. I thought I'd try my hand at something other than Humor. Let's hope this doesn't come off as Humor.**  
Summary: **What if Roger didn't leave for Santa Fe? What did he do instead?**  
Notes: **Happy Challenge 200! And thank you Greens. We all love this community so much. I used challenges** #43 **("What If?"), **#91 **(One character is called something horrible for the first time) **#126 **(piggy bank), and **#173 **("They called him/her what?"). Set during Rent, "Goodbye Love" and on. Mark's POV. What I don't like about this, is that if it had occurred, "_What You Own_" wouldn't have. ("_What You Own"_ is one of my favorite songs, and I feel it is overlooked.)**  
Special Thanks: **Everyone at speedrent, because you are all awesome. You know you are.**  
Spoilers: **"Goodbye Love" and a lot of things that lead up to it. **  
Warnings: **Angel-mourning.Mark angst. Roger being a jerk. Roger breakdown.**  
Disclaimer: **I only own myself, and I, unfortunately, am not Rent.

* * *

_"Hey!_" I called after him, hating that we were fighting in a funeral home, "_For someone who's always been let down, who's heading out of town_?"

"_For someone who longs for a community of his own, who's with his camera…alone_?"

He paused, visibly upset, "You're fake."

My heart sank. He was right. I was fake. I detached and I was a hypocrite. I had known this for a while, but I didn't think Roger had. He never paid any attention to me anyway.

"Roger don't…" I tried to stop him.

He closed his eyes and solemnly walked away, headed back to the loft, to get his car and drive to New Mexico.

I had watched him a few nights before as he smashed open his old piggy bank. He found a hammer among all our junk scattered throughout our loft apartment. He had tapped it hard against the pink porcelain, which had flown all around him.

_"I found this earlier. I had forgotten all about it." _He told me, "_I have some old savings in here. I can get a car with this._"

"_What about April's car that she left you?" _I shrugged_, "Can't you just take that?" _I didn't want him to spend more than he had to.

"_Piece of crap. Gas pedal's stuck. Emergency break's broken. There's gum stuck in the ignition. You know how she was._"

I hated watching him leave. I loved him. I really loved him. I was being selfish, I knew. I didn't want him to be here to help and be with Mimi, or to be a friend to everyone else. I wanted him to be here for me. To take back everything he said, and reassure me of everything I'm concerned about. To tell me he loves me too.

But I knew that wouldn't happen.

* * *

I stayed in the loft for an entire week after Halloween. I hadn't started at Buzzline yet, so they thankfully didn't need me. Roger was gone. Angel was dead. I wasn't sure of anything.

Collins came by on the seventh to try and get me out.

"Who do you think you are? Roger? Staying shelled up in here?"

He had to mention Roger. He just _had _to mention Roger.

"They're gone, Collins."

"I know, boy. They're gone. But you can't do this. You have to get out."

I felt terrible. Collins was hurting so much more, and yet he was putting so much energy into helping me.

"I detach. I'm a hypocrite. He…he called me a fake, Collins. And he's right."

I put my head in my hands as I heard Collins inhale.

I could hear the door open and two sets of feet shuffle in.

"They called him what?" Maureen's voice echoed.

I sat up and turned to face Maureen.

"Roger…called me a fake. And he's right."

"Mark…" Joanne looked at me with sorrow in her eyes.

"He said I detach from life. And that I'm numb, even though I tell people not to be. It's the truth."

The three of them exchanged glances, but neither of them knew what to say to console me.

"Mark," Collins' big hands held my shoulders in a tight grip, "I think I know who can help you."

My brow furrowed. Who could possibly help me?  
"Go see Angel." He instructed, "She was always good at this. It'll help to talk to her."

Maureen nodded, "She was real good. She still is."

"Go!" Joanne shooed me out the door.

* * *

I passed the gates into the cemetery nervously. I didn't want to feel the pain of seeing Angel's grave.

Someone was bent over in front of it when I got there. I didn't recognize him, but I could hear him crying softly.

"Hi." I gulped.

The figure turned around, his eyes red and face tear streaked.

_Roger_.

"Roger, I thought you were in Santa Fe…" I raised my voice, confused.

He shrugged and I could see some tears escape from his eyes.

"Why her, Mark?"

"What?"

"Why'd it have to be Angel? She never did anything wrong. She…was basically perfect. She deserved life more than any of us."

I stood there silent. I didn't know what to say. Detaching again.

He had a point. Why was it Angel?

"Why was it her!" Roger yelled, sobbing, and bent over. His hands cradled his face over the ground.

I placed the bouquet of flowers I had somehow afforded in front of her headstone and kneeled down next to Roger.

I ran my hand up and down his back, trying to comfort my best friend. I was at once reminded of the dark days of withdrawal.

"I don't know Roger. It doesn't make sense to me either. It shouldn't have been Angel. It should…" I choked on my own words, "It should've been me."

He sat up then, still swallowing his cries.

"Stop that, Mark. It shouldn't have been anyone."

My glance turned to the grass beneath me.

"Mark, I…I'm sorry about what I said before. It was stupid. You're not like that."

He was wrong, but it felt nice to have him apologize for the words that had stabbed me through the heart.

He wrapped his arms around me and I did the same. I loved being this close to him."

After a minute, he stood up and wiped his eyes with his jacket sleeve.

"I'm gonna try and find Mimi. If you wanna come, you can. I'll be back at the loft later."

_Mimi_. Don't get me wrong, Mimi's great. She got Roger out of the loft. And she's a great friend.

But she loves Roger, too. And unlike with me, he loves her back. I have no chance.

"No, it's okay. I'm gonna stay here for a while. Good luck."

He waved goodbye, and I was left with Angel.

"We miss you, Angel." I started, "A lot. In fact, you're pretty much all we think about. I bet you're wearing your Santa suit. At least, I, uh, hope you are." I was so awkward and terrible at this.

"You don't have AIDS anymore. That must be nice. Do you have friends, wherever you are? I'm guessing you do. You're good with people."

I closed my eyes and breathed in, "Hey, do you…do you think you could do something for me?" I waited for her to answer, although I knew she wouldn't respond, "Do you think you could help Mimi and Roger? I just want Roger to be happy, and Mimi does that for him. If you could help him find her, and maybe get her healthier. He needs her. And I need him."

He wasn't coming around for a while. Not to me, at least. And I knew this. But, I had him back. And that would do for now.

**THE END**


End file.
